Blood on the Snow
by sofia313
Summary: Roose sighed and looked at the twins. He should probably name them; the miller's wife hadn't done that. "I will name the boy Ramsay," he stated. "And the girl Rhona."
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Roose Bolton crossed his arms as he looked at the two bundles lying on the bed. A boy and a girl. The miller's wife had brought them to the Dreadfort, claiming that Roose had fathered them. At first Roose had almost told his men to kill the woman and the children, but after taking a closer look, he had been convinced that the twins were indeed his.

Their mother didn't want them; she had said that Roose could do whatever he wished with them. What should he do with them? That was a question he didn't have an answer yet. The boy could perhaps be useful to him, but he doubted that the same could be said about the girl. Yet she was his flesh and blood. He was still pondering his dilemma when a timid wet-nurse entered the room and curtsied.

"You called for me, my lord?"

"Yes," Roose replied absentmindedly and pointed at the girl. "Take that child, she won't stay here."

The wet-nurse hurried to the bed and picked the girl up. Both children had been quiet, but now the boy started to scream at the top of his lungs.

"Do something," Roose demanded, feeling irritated.

The wet-nurse placed the girl back on the bed in order to lift the boy up, but he stopped screaming immediately when the girl was beside him again. The wet-nurse tried to lift the girl up again and the boy started to scream. Cautiously she looked at Roose.

"Shall I take the girl, my lord?"

Roose frowned and looked at the boy who was quiet now as the girl was with him.

"No. She seems to calm the boy, so she can stay here. I want you to take care of them."

"Yes, my lord."

Roose sighed and looked at the twins. He should probably name them; the miller's wife hadn't done that. He thought about it for a brief moment.

"I will name the boy Ramsay," he stated. "And the girl Rhona."

"Those are good names, my lord," the wet-nurse said.

Roose didn't really care about that, any more than he cared about the children. They were merely his bastards. He had a trueborn son and an heir, Domeric. These children would be nothing more than useful tools for him.


	2. First blood

**Warning, attempted rape**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 **First blood**

13 years later

The lighted torches were casting ominous shadows onto the opposite walls and on the floors as Rhona walked silently across the semi-dark hallways. She knew every inch of Dreadfort so well that she could have walked across these hallways with her eyes closed. She knew how to stay unnoticed and hide in the shadows. That had always been her place, but she didn't really mind. She had learned very early how to survive here. Lord Bolton was a harsh and cruel man, just like his son. Avoiding them both had been one of the first things Rhona had learned.

Domeric had never considered Rhona and Ramsay as his siblings, he merely called them bastards. Unlike Rhona, Ramsay refused to stay out of Domeric's sight. He refused to hide in the shadows, no matter how many times Domeric and his friends beat him up. Rhona couldn't even remember how many times she had cleaned her brother's wounds and bruises. Yet Ramsay didn't give up.

The ice-cold rage in his eyes grew every time the older boy mocked him. He said that if he wouldn't have to hold back, he could beat Domeric. Rhona believed that he could, she had seen him fighting with some other boys, but she had to always remind him who Domeric was. Their father's heir. The future Lord of the Dreadfort. Rhona feared the day when their father would die. She had no doubt that Domeric would cast her and Ramsay out, if they would be lucky.

Where would they go? She didn't know, but Ramsay had assured her that she didn't have to worry. He would look after her, just like he always had. He had never been cruel to her or hurt her and there was never rage in his eyes when he looked at her. He was the only real family she had. Their father had never paid much attention to her and she doubted that he would as long as she would stay invisible.

He had arranged education for both her and Ramsay, but she wasn't trained to be a lady. No, she was trained to run a household. There hadn't been a Lady in the Dreadfort after Domeric's mother had died and Lord Bolton wanted Rhona to run the household until he would take a new wife or Domeric would be wed. Lord Bolton had said that he wanted Rhona to be useful, unlike girls in general. He often said that a man wasn't a real man until he had fathered a son.

Rhona was on her way to the kitchen in order to make sure that everything was ready for tomorrow. It would be Domeric's 17th nameday and Lord Bolton was throwing a big feast. He expected Rhona to make sure that everything would be perfect. Many guests had arrived today and the servants had their hands full taking care of their needs. There weren't enough kitchen girls, as Rhona had tried to tell her father days ago, but he hadn't listened, so she had to work in the kitchen herself until the guests would leave. She was just passing the dining hall when someone grabbed her from behind.

"Hello there!" a drunken male voice chuckled. "What do we have here? Are you lost, sweetheart?"

Rhona pressed her lips together, she had got used to men groping her, but she still hated it.

"Please let go of me, my lord," she said calmly.

"Oh, I don't think so. I think you're coming with me."

She didn't have time to say anything when he dragged her into the dining hall. Domeric was sitting at the table with his friends, they were all drunk. For once Rhona was glad to see him.

"Look what I found!" her capturer announced.

All the young men turned to look at her. Rhona met Domeric's gaze and expected him to tell his friend to let her go. He didn't. Instead his lips curved into a smile.

"Where did you find that little ragamuffin?" he asked mockingly.

Rhona's dark hair was up in a messy bun and she was wearing a modest grey dress and an apron since she was on her way to the kitchen.

"She ran straight into my arms," her capturer chuckled. "A typical servant girl."

"Domeric…" Rhona started tensely.

"Who do you think you are, girl?" he snapped. "How dare you address me by my first name?"

"I apologize, my lord. Please allow me to leave; I must go to the kitchen."

Domeric looked at her with his drunken eyes and his lips curved into a sinister smile. Terror filled Rhona as she understood what was going to happen.

"I am Lord Bolton's daughter," she said, managing to sound calm.

All the men burst into laughter.

"Is that so?" one of them chuckled and marched over to her. She tried to back away, but her capturer held her still. "I wonder what your 'father' would say if I would do this."

She tried to scream, but before a sound came out of her mouth, the man's lips were on hers, moving fiercely. She struggled desperately to break free, but the two men held her in place. The one behind her was laughing as his friend forced his rancid tongue into her mouth, flicking it around sloppily. She tried screaming again, but it was no use, all the sound was being muffled by his mouth.

He was holding her tighter now and his hands were slipping down her body. It was making her absolutely nauseated. This couldn't be happening; she had to somehow stop this. She mustered up all her strength and tried to free herself, but the men were bigger and stronger than her. She was short and she had always been bony, but she could also run fast.

Right now she would have given anything if she would be strong enough to free herself. She had to get away, she couldn't let this happen. Finally the man took his lips off of hers and she screamed. That only made all the men laugh harder. The man in front of her leaned back just a bit so he could get a better look at her.

"Are you a woman already, sweetheart?" he asked, like he would have expected her to answer. "Well, you will be soon."

She screamed again when he grabbed the neckline of her dress and pulled it down in one sudden movement. She stiffened and gazed at him in horror as she realized that her small breasts were fully exposed. He didn't have time to touch them when someone attacked him, knocking him off his feet. Ramsay.

His eyes were flaming in rage and he was growling like a wild beast as he started to kick the man who was lying on the floor. The man who was standing behind Rhona hurried to help his friend, but he was soon screaming when Ramsay broke his nose. Rhona covered herself and watched her brother's rage. Usually she would have looked away, but now she didn't.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Lord Bolton's voice suddenly demanded.

Domeric stood up and looked at his father.

"Your bastard just attacked my friends."

Lord Bolton's eyes narrowed.

"Ramsay?"

He was panting and he barely managed to control his rage.

"They were hurting Rhona."

"No, they weren't," Domeric snorted. "They were just having a little fun; I would have stopped them soon."

Lord Bolton glanced at Rhona.

"You should know better than to come here in this hour."

"I was on my way to the kitchen," she murmured.

"Then go," Lord Bolton huffed. "You have already caused enough trouble."

She curtsied and left as quickly as she could, hoping that their father wouldn't punish Ramsay. The kitchen girls could clearly see that something had happened to her, but they didn't ask any questions. She worked silently until Edna, a big redheaded woman who led the kitchen told her to go and get some rest. Ramsay was waiting for her in her room. Neither of them spoke, she simply took care of his wounds. Her wounds couldn't be seen.

Two months later Domeric was dead. They never spoke about it, but Rhona knew that Ramsay had killed him. He had killed their father's only trueborn son and he had enjoyed it. Nothing was the same after that.


	3. Fear

**Chapter 2**

 **Fear**

3 years later

"Lean your head back," Rhona said calmly.

Ramsay obeyed and sighed as she poured warm water over his head. He was sitting in the bathtub and as usual, he wanted her to assist him. No servant was ever allowed to be present when he bathed, it was his private time. The only time when he relaxed. She picked up soap and started gently to massage his head. He sighed again, she could easily see how relaxed he was.

She had noticed the bloodstains on his clothes and skin, but she knew better than to ask questions. All the servants feared Ramsay, much more than they had ever feared Domeric. More than they feared Lord Bolton himself. Ramsay was more cruel and merciless than anyone Rhona had ever met, but she didn't fear him. She didn't have to. He took care of her and he had made sure that no man in the Dreadfort even looked at her the wrong way. She could have walked naked across the dining hall if she would have wanted to and no one would have dared to look at her, not to mention touch her.

"Did you have a rough day?" she asked as she finished washing his hair.

"Yes," he murmured, keeping his eyes closed. "But I believe father is very pleased with me."

"That's good."

"Yes, it is."

Rhona knew that Ramsay was hoping their father to legitimize them. He didn't see any reason why Lord Bolton wouldn't do that since they were his only children. Ramsay had worked hard to impress their father and he had succeeded. Lord Bolton trusted Ramsay with many things. Rhona on the other hand was still mostly invisible to him. She ran the household, but that wasn't worth much to her father. Lord Bolton didn't think very highly of women. Rhona picked up a sponge and started rubbing Ramsay's neck and shoulders.

"That feels nice," he hummed. "No one has a softer touch."

She moved on to his collarbone and chest. Taking care of him like this had always been normal to her. He wanted this and she owed him at least this much after everything he did for her. He kept her safe; she doubted that she would even be alive without him. He was her brother, her family, her protector. He was everything.

Carefully she moved lower towards his waist and stopped there. She knew better than to go further, instead she moved on to his back. After she was finished, she went to get a bathrobe and linen that she could use to dry his hair. He stood up and stepped out of the bathtub. His nakedness didn't bother either of them, she had seen him naked countless of times. Carefully she dried him before wrapping the bathrobe around him.

"Thank you," he stated.

She was one of the very few people who ever heard him using those words.

"You're welcome," she replied and went to add wood in the fireplace. She didn't want him to catch a cold. He sat down and observed her silently until she had completed her task.

"Dine with me here," he said.

"Sure."

She hurried to find a servant and asked him to bring supper for Ramsay and her.

"Yes, my lady, right away," the servant murmured, keeping his eyes on the floor.

Rhona knew that they would have supper very quickly, as always. No one wanted to anger Ramsay. She returned to his chamber and saw him staring at the flames in the fireplace. He had put his pants on, but his upper body was bare. Silently she fetched him a clean shirt and helped him to wear it before starting to brush his hair. She was also the only one who shaved him when he asked her to. Tonight he hadn't asked that. She hurried to the door as soon as she heard a quiet knock. All the servants knew better than to enter Ramsay's chamber without his permission.

"Thank you," Rhona said calmly as she took a tray from the male servant.

She placed it on a small table next to Ramsay's bed and poured him some ale. They ate silently and she felt his eyes on her.

"You should have nicer dresses," he stated after a long silence.

"I have few," she replied. "You remember father had them made for me for special occasions."

"I meant dresses that are made for a woman. You're not a child anymore, you shouldn't dress like one."

"My clothes need to be practical," she pointed out. "I must be able to work…"

"No," he snorted. "You're a daughter of a lord, you shouldn't have to work." He paused and leaned towards her. "When I'm a lord, you'll never work again. You'll be treated like a princess."

"I'm not a princess," she murmured.

"You will be, I promise you. Have I ever broken my promise?"

"No, you haven't."

He smiled.

"I won't break this one either. I'll give you more beautiful dressed than you can count and you'll wear them every day. For me. Only for me."

"Yes, brother."

She controlled herself perfectly, as she always did, but he still noticed something and frowned.

"Don't you want to look pretty for me?"

"I do. I just don't want other people looking at me."

"They won't," he assured. "If anyone even tries, I'll have their eyes gouged out and give them to you on a silver platter. Would that make you happy?"

"Yes," she murmured, earning a genuine smile from him.

"That's what I thought. I know you, Rhona, just like you know me. No one else will ever know you."

"No."

"You will never belong to anyone else than me."

"No."

"Then say it, Rhona. Who do you belong to?"

"You, Ramsay," she murmured. "I belong to you."

"Who else?"

"No one. Only you."

"That's right. Don't ever forget that."


	4. Girl in the woods

**Chapter 3**

 **Girl in the woods**

1 year later

Jon washed his hands and face in the river, although the water felt freezing. The day had been very long and he still had a long ride ahead of him.

"It looks like there's going to be a storm," Robb said. He was standing behind Jon, looking up at the sky. "We should head back."

Jon stood up and looked at his brother. They had been hunting since dawn and caught a magnificent deer. Surely their father would be proud of them. Jon didn't want to admit how badly he wanted his father's acceptance. His attention. His affection. Lord Stark had always been a good father and he had treated Jon the same way he treated his other children. His trueborn children.

Yet Jon had always felt that he had to prove himself to his father. He had to prove that he was worthy of his father's affection. He had never talked about that to anyone, not even Robb. They were brothers, but Jon didn't think that Robb would understand. And there was a small part of Jon that envied Robb. He wasn't proud of that, but he couldn't help it. Not that it mattered. Robb was his brother and Jon would have done anything for him.

"Aye," Jon replied.

Robb was about to say something when he suddenly tensed. Jon frowned, but then he heard it too. Their horses were nickering. Someone was here. The horses were few feet away, tied to a tree. Robb's back was turned to them, so he silently signaled Jon to tell him if he saw anyone.

"So," Robb stated calmly. "We have a long ride ahead, so we should go. But I think I'll also wash myself first."

"I think you should," Jon replied while his eyes scanned their surroundings. He saw a dark figure sneaking towards the horses.

" _How many?"_ Robb's lips formed a silent question.

" _I see one."_

Robb nodded and leaned towards the water, splashing it with his hand.

"We had a successful day," he stated casually while silently unsheathing his sword. "The Gods favored us."

"Aye," Jon murmured. He had a knife in his hand. Robb continued talking, making the sneaker believe that they hadn't noticed him. He was next to the horses when Jon made his move. The sneaker was trying to mount Robb's horse when Jon caught him from behind and threw him on the ground.

"Thief!" Jon snarled and attacked him. The sneaker was wearing a dark cloak and Jon couldn't see his face when he pressed the knife on his throat. Robb appeared next to them, ready to help Jon.

"Well done," Robb said. "It seems that we caught a horse thief."

The sneaker's face was still hidden under a hood, but Jon started to realize something as he was on top of him. He was a she. Quickly Jon grabbed the hood and yanked it off. A young woman was staring at him with her blue eyes. She looked like a cornered animal, ready to fight for her life.

"A girl," Robb gasped.

"Get off of me," she hissed.

Jon was so surprised by the whole thing that he obeyed. She tried to get up, but Robb stopped her by threatening her with his sword.

"Not so fast. A girl or not, but you just tried to steal my horse."

She clenched her fists, keeping her eyes down.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "It was a misunderstanding."

"You expect us to believe that?" Robb snorted.

"I swear that I didn't…" she started.

"The horses!" Jon cried out when he saw that the girl had untied both animals. "Woah, woah, easy now, boy…"

Both horses neighed loudly; it seemed that something had scared them. Robb was distracted for a brief moment, but that was all the girl needed. She screamed at the top of her lungs, making the horses to gallop away. Both Jon and Robb tried to stop them, giving the girl a chance to run.

"Hey!" Jon snapped and went after the girl. She was fast, but he was faster, she cried out when he tackled her. This time he didn't have a knife, so she struggled furiously before he managed to trap her under him. They were both panting when Robb reached them.

"This is just great," he snorted. "The horses are gone."

Jon had trapped the girl's hands above her head; she was still trying to free herself.

"Turn her around," Robb said.

The girl's eyes widened in terror.

"No, please," she pleaded desperately. "No! No!"

For a moment Jon almost felt sorry for her, although he couldn't understand why she suddenly panicked. He kept her in place as Robb tied her hands behind her back. Together they lifted her to her feet.

"You are my prisoner now," Robb announced. "I will take you to my father and he will decide what will happen to you."

* * *

"Well?" Ramsay asked icily.

The young soldier swallowed.

"Forgive me, my lord, we haven't found her yet."

Ramsay smiled, but there was nothing warm or friendly about his smile.

"Then I suggest you keep looking. Bring her back, no matter what it takes."

"Yes, my lord," the soldier said quickly.

Ramsay marched to the kennels; he was so furious that he couldn't even think properly. Rhona… He took a piece of silky fabric out of his pocket and smelled it. Her scent was still there. He could just let his hounds smell it. No. He wouldn't hurt her. He wouldn't damage what belonged to him. Besides, he didn't know yet what had happened.

She wouldn't have left willingly. Someone had taken her. What if that someone had hurt her? Touched her. Dark rage filled Ramsay when he thought about it. No one touched what belonged to him. He pressed his face against the fabric and inhaled her scent. His Rhona. Someone had dared to take her from him. That someone would pray for death long before Ramsay would be finished with him.


	5. Stormy night

**Chapter 4**

 **Stormy night**

Robb looked at the girl who had settled as far away from him as she could. She was sitting on the ground, leaning against the cold stone. The storm had forced them to find shelter and thankfully Jon had spotted this small cave. Robb had just lit up a campfire, while Jon had gone to gather more wood. It seemed that they would have to spend the night here.

"Hey," Robb said to the girl. "Come closer to the fire, you'll freeze there."

She didn't move or say anything; she hadn't said a word after they had captured her. Obviously she was cold, she was shaking.

"Come on," Robb sighed. "Why would you want to torture yourself?"

Slowly the girl looked up, her face was completely blank.

"My apologies, my lord," she stated coldly. "Am I ruining your fun?"

Robb frowned.

"I would reconsider my attitude if I were you. Legally I could have executed you right there. That's the punishment for horse thieves."

"Why didn't you then?" she asked. "I think we both know the answer to that."

"What?"

She pressed her lips together and turned her head away. Robb didn't have time to say anything when Jon returned.

"It seems that we have to stay here," he panted, shaking his soaking wet hair. "The storm is getting worse."

Robb sighed and nodded.

"I suspected that much." He paused and gave the girl an annoyed glare. "Too bad we don't have horses."

The girl didn't say anything or look at him.

"Gods, I'm freezing," Jon murmured and started removing his wet clothes.

Robb followed his example, they needed to stay warm.

"What about her?" Jon asked, nodding towards the girl.

Robb sighed; he couldn't just let her freeze to death. She was his prisoner, so it was his responsibility to take her to Winterfell alive.

"Look," he sighed. "Maybe you don't care about your life, but I can't just leave you there for the night. "

"I'm fine, thank you," she murmured tensely.

"Really?" Robb snorted. "Are you comfortable there?"

"Yes," she claimed.

Robb rolled his eyes; he could see how violently her body was shaking. Did she really want to freeze to death?

"Alright, enough of this," he huffed and glanced at Jon. "Let's bring her here."

"No! Stay away from me!" she screamed as Robb and Jon approached her. Her hands were still tied behind her back and she was desperately trying to get up, but her legs didn't hold her.

"Don't touch me! Stay away!"

"You really are ungrateful," Robb snorted. For a brief moment he considered leaving her there, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't just let a woman die in front of his eyes. She struggled like a wild beast when he and Jon lifted her up.

"Stop that!" Robb snapped. "We are trying to help you."

"No! Don't touch me! Let me go!"

"Can you believe this?" Robb huffed, looking at Jon. "What is wrong with this girl?"

Jon didn't reply, he was struggling not to drop her. She was acting like an animal, perhaps she was a wildling. She didn't really look like a wildling though. Both Robb and Jon were panting when they finally placed the girl on the ground by the campfire.

"There," Robb snapped. "Was that really so hard?"

The girl didn't say anything, she was still shaking.

"Hey?" Jon said as he knelt next to her.

"Don't…" she murmured. "Don't touch me."

Jon frowned and looked at Robb.

"I think there's something wrong with her."

"Yes, I agree…"

"No, I think she's sick."

Robb looked at her face and saw what Jon meant. She was as pale as a ghost and her eyes glistened.

"No…" she protested when Robb placed his hand on her forehead. She was burning up.

"Great," Robb sighed. "Alright, we need to undress you…"

"No!"

"You're sick, you have a fever. Do you understand? We need to remove your wet clothes."

"No…" she murmured, her voice sounded weak.

"We are not going to hurt you," Jon said.

She let out a weak laughter.

"Of course not. I'm sure you think I'm going to enjoy being raped."

"What, no! We're not going to…rape you," Robb said. "We're not some monsters."

She shivered and let out an exhausted sigh.

"And I'm not…an idiot," she murmured before losing consciousness. Jon caught her before she fell on the ground.

"Alright…" Robb murmured and knelt next to them. Jon held her while Robb untied her hands. "We need to keep her warm."

"Aye," Jon replied.

Neither of them spoke as they removed her cloak and dress. Robb's eyes widened when he saw her bare back. She had been flogged. The wounds were fresh and it seemed that they were inflamed.

"Be careful with her back," Robb murmured.

Jon turned her on her side and saw what Robb meant.

"Perhaps someone else also caught her from stealing," Robb stated.

"Perhaps," Jon muttered.

A thief or not, but Robb still felt sympathy for her. Something told him that the girl hadn't had the easiest life.

"Alright… Let's take turns watching the fire," Robb said. "I can take the first turn."

"Sure," Jon replied and pulled the girl closer to him until her breasts pressed against his chest. They only had one fur that wasn't soaking wet; Robb picked it up and settled on the girl's other side. They needed to share each other's warmth, but he also needed to be careful for not to hurt her back. He tried his best not to think about the fact that he was holding a very pretty naked girl.

Something told him that Jon was thinking about the same thing. Neither of them said a word, not before it was Jon's turn to watch the fire. They turned the girl around, so Jon would be able to get up and add wood when he needed to. Robb could have slept now, but he didn't. He couldn't when he felt the girl's breasts pressing against his chest. It was a very strange feeling. Her body was soft and very warm. Very womanly.


	6. Pure

**Chapter 5**

 **Pure**

 _Rhona knew that Ramsay would come to her room tonight. Their father had once again made him fume with anger at dinner by belittling him. Of course Ramsay never showed his anger to their father, he knew better. He knew that without Lord Bolton, they would have nothing. They would be nothing but bastards. Ramsay hated to be called a bastard and no one except their father ever dared to call him that._

 _Rhona made sure to take her bath before her brother's arrival. She also made sure that the fire in the fireplace was nice and hot with plenty of wood in it. After her bath, she wore one of her nicer dresses. It was one of Ramsay's favorite, light blue. Her long dark hair was thoroughly combed and it all tumbled down her back, just like Ramsay liked it. She stared into the fire deep in thoughts when she heard the door open. Ramsay entered the room silently, closing the door behind him. She didn't turn to face him, but she felt his eyes on her._

 _"Calm me down, Rhona," he demanded. His voice held no emotion, but she could tell that he wasn't kidding. She needed to make sure that he wouldn't do something foolish. She walked towards him with silence and held out her hand, waiting for him to take it. He did and allowed her to lead him to the bed._

 _"Come, brother," she said softly and gestured him to lie down._

 _He obeyed and moved towards the head of the bed, folding his hands under his head. She joined him and gently guided his head on her lap. He sighed and wrapped his arm around her waist while she stroked his hair and started to hum a lullaby. His fingers were touching her back, hip and thigh, but she didn't shudder or cringe. This was what he needed. This was the least she could do for him. He kept her safe, took care of her._

 _"You feel good, Rhona," he murmured. "So soft and warm. So…pure."_

 _"I just bathed," she replied, although she knew he hadn't meant that._

 _"Hmm," he hummed and rested his hand on her lower back. "My sweet Rhona. Do you love me, sister?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"That's good to hear. You know you're mine."_

 _"Yes."_

 _His fingers kept caressing her thigh as he kissed it. She held still and continued stroking his hair. It calmed him, it always had._

 _"You know I'll always protect you. I'll destroy anyone who wrongs you."_

 _"I know, brother."_

 _She knew that he meant it. Ramsay was very possessive over what was his; he would have killed for her. He had killed for her. She couldn't deny that he made her feel safe. For that she would always love him._

* * *

Rhona felt strange as she slowly opened her eyes. She was on her stomach, lying on something soft. Her mouth felt dry, she was thirsty. And her back hurt. What had happened? She was dizzy and disoriented, everything looked blurry. For some reason her hands were above her head. She tried to move them, but she couldn't. Why? She tried again, but something was stopping her.

It took a moment before she realized that her hands were tied. Terror cleared her mind quickly; she struggled to lift her head. Where was she? The first thing she saw was a water bowl on a small table. She was lying on a bed. Tied up. Panic tried to take over, but she managed to stop it. She needed to concentrate. Was she naked? She wasn't completely sure; she was covered with a fur. What had happened? The two men in the woods…

She swallowed when she remembered them. Had they sold her to a brothel? Had they…? Of course they had, she had been unconscious. Defenseless. Completely at their mercy. It was better that she didn't know what had been done to her body. Not that it mattered, it would no doubt happen again soon. She struggled to free herself, but she couldn't. All she could do was waiting for someone to come.

Ramsay… If only he would be here. He wouldn't let them hurt her. She shouldn't be here, she should be with him. She needed to think. She needed to find a way to save herself. Suddenly she heard the door opening. It made her heart pound like a drum.

"You're awake," a male voice said. Rhona couldn't see him, but she heard his steps as he approached the bed. She didn't move or make a sound, although the terror was trying to suffocate her.

"Hello," the man said as he leaned towards her. He was an old man who was almost bald.

"I'm Maester Luwin. How are you feeling?"

She observed him cautiously, trying to see his intentions.

"I…" she said hoarsely and started to cough.

The old man poured her water and helped her to take few sips. She was still coughing, but she enjoyed every drop. Her mouth had never felt so dry before.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"You are welcome."

She hesitated for a moment before asking the question that felt the most important one right now.

"Could you tell me where I am?"

"You are in Winterfell."

"Winterfell?"

"Yes, Lord Stark's sons brought you here; you were in a bad shape."

Oh no… She had tried to steal horses from Lord Stark's sons. They had lost two horses because of her. If her father would hear about this… No, she couldn't let that happen. She couldn't use his name; he would kill her if she would. She needed to think of something else. Something that would save her from execution. Ramsay couldn't help her now, she was on her own. For the first time in her life.

"Your fever seems to be gone," Maester Luwin continued. "I gave you some herbs and put salves on your back."

"Thank you," she said cautiously, wondering why he had treated her, if she was going to be executed.

"I apologize for tying your hands, but you were moving a lot and I needed to make sure that you wouldn't turn on your back."

"Oh," she murmured. "I'm feeling much better now, could you be so kind and untie me?"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Maester Luwin," a familiar voice said from the door. "She bites. Among other things."


	7. Liar

**Chapter 6**

 **Liar**

"Lord Robb," Maester Luwin greeted him.

"Good evening, Maester Luwin," Robb replied, keeping his eyes on the girl who was lying on the bed. "Our little wildcat seems to be feeling better."

"Yes, thankfully her fever is gone. I believe she will recover, but she still needs to rest."

"Aye, I see."

The girl was on her stomach under a fur; her hands were tied to the bedpost. She didn't move or make a sound as Robb approached the bed.

"I would like to have a word with her, if you don't mind, Maester Luwin."

"No, not at all." The old Maester paused and looked at the girl. "I should untie her…"

"I can do that," Robb assured.

"Alright. I will come and see her again later."

Robb waited until Maester Luwin had left the room and closed the door behind him.

"So," he started. "What is your name?"

"Rina, my lord," the girl replied quietly. She wasn't looking at him; her position seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable.

"Do you know who I am, Rina?"

"Yes, my lord, you are Lord Stark's son."

Robb had to admit that he was a little surprised.

"And yet you tried to steal horses from me and my brother?"

"No, my lord, I… I didn't know who you are, the Maester just told me."

"So you thought stealing horses from some travelers was fine?"

"No, my lord, no, I didn't… I…"

Robb crossed his arms.

"Are you saying that you didn't try to steal our horses?"

"No… I mean yes, but… I didn't mean to steal."

"Really? What were you doing then?"

She swallowed.

"I… I was desperate, my lord," she murmured. "I was alone and…scared."

Robb observed her, trying to see was she telling the truth. Clearly she was more than nervous, her hands were shaking.

"What were you doing alone in the woods?"

"I… I was lost."

"How did you end up there?"

She hesitated for a brief moment before replying.

"My… My uncle… I lived with him. He threw me out."

"Why?"

"He was drunk. He's mean when he's drunk."

"Did he flog you?"

"Yes."

Robb wasn't sure did he believe her.

"He should be punished then, I'm sure my father agrees. You must take me to your home…"

"No! I mean… Thank you, my lord, but I really don't want him to be punished."

"Why not?" Robb asked sharply.

"He's my family. I don't have anyone else."

"Is he a farmer?"

"No, he's… a woodcutter."

Now Robb was almost sure that she was lying. He doubted that a woodcutter's ward could afford the dress she had worn. It had looked modest, but the fabric had been high quality.

"Are you planning to go back to him?" he inquired.

"I… If I may, my lord."

"I thought you said he threw you out."

"Oh… I'm sure he has changed his mind by now."

"Why would you want to go back to someone who flogged you?"

"I… Because he's my family. I don't have any other place to go."

"Hmm. I assume he will pay your debt then?"

She swallowed.

"My debt, my lord?"

"The horses. Although I'm not sure if my father agrees to pardon you."

She was quiet for a while; he could see how fast her breathing was.

"Could you be so kind and ask him to be merciful?" she pleaded quietly.

"Why would I do that?"

"I would repay your kindness."

"Really? You must be a very wealthy woman then."

"I'm not, but… I was hoping that we could… arrange a different kind of payment."

Robb frowned. Was she a whore? Well, she was a liar and a thief. Perhaps she had run away from a brothel.

"What kind of payment you have in mind?" he asked calmly.

"I'm sure you know, my lord," she replied.

He moved closer to the bed and untied her hands. She sighed and carefully rubbed her wrists.

"Thank you, my lord."

He observed her as she got into a sitting position. She was naked under the fur and he tried his best not to think about holding her in the cave. They were both quiet, she wasn't looking at him. He couldn't help but to notice how nervous and delicate she looked. Was that an act? In the cave she had fought like a wild animal, demanding not to be touched. Now she was offering her body to him in exchange for his help. Obviously she wasn't a maiden, but was she a whore?

"Do we have an agreement?" she finally asked.

"No," he replied.

She flinched.

"Please… I… I'll do whatever you want…"

"As I said before, I'm not a monster," he stated. "I don't force myself on women."

"No, no, you wouldn't… I want this. I want you."

"Really? Could you look at me then?"

Slowly she looked up. All he saw in her large eyes was terror. That was most certainly genuine, she wasn't acting. Perhaps she had lied about other things, but she really was afraid. Something told him that she wasn't only afraid of him. She was hiding something. Probably many things. Yet he felt sympathy for her. And he had to admit that he also felt curiosity.

"I'll talk to my father," he stated.

"Thank you, my lord," she replied cautiously. Clearly she expected him to demand his payment.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord, a little."

He nodded.

"I'll send someone to bring you dinner. Eat and rest, Rina, we'll talk more tomorrow."

She was still cautious as he walked over to the door.

"My lord?"

He turned to look at her.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."


End file.
